


Rotten Apples and Damaged Goods

by radiantmania



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Dependency Issues, Drabbles, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Mental Instability, Mood Disorder, Obsession, bad people doing bad things, partners in crime, twisted relationship between two villains, unhealthy people in an unhealthy relationship, violent freaks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5366192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantmania/pseuds/radiantmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love and madness, obsession and manipulation, laughter and violence; warning- contents may have shifted during transit. A collection of drabbles based around the twisted and complicated relationship between Harley Quinn and the Joker, set in a style of tattooed psycho-killer criminals. Chapters labelled for mood and content when possible. An ongoing project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a Queen of Diamonds / dark introspection

**Author's Note:**

> Here be monsters. Expect to to find explorations of unhealthy people, unhinged absurdity and moody introspection. All of my stories will center for the most part on Harley Quinn and the Joker and their relationship, though there will be cameos of other characters popping up once and a while. I'm not very good at tagging every detail.
> 
> Harley Quinn and the Joker are both violent, dangerous, unhealthy and unstable individuals. They do not operate with the same moral values as other people. Expect violence typical of the canon against each other and everyone else. Harley is not a hero of any sort in these drabbles. 
> 
> This is pretty much an unholy amalgamation of various canons smashed together or trimmed out to fit my personal perspective of these two freaks. Though things from many canons will probably pop up here and there, I'm largely inspired here by the aesthetic of the new DCCU movies. Key word, inspiration. I'm just goofing off with ideas. A minor source of inspiration is Azzarello's solo Joker comic from 2008.
> 
> Drabbles range from serious, soft, dark, angst, absurd, just about anything as the mood hits me. Some things will be a little naughty ~~maybe really naughty if I get brave further down the road~~. At the moment just expect general madness and some occasional character inspection.
> 
>    
> This first one is an inspection of mood disorder, erratic mindsets and obsession- it intentionally has no dialogue.  
> 

* * *

 

 

Love was madness and if anyone had trouble understanding what that meant, then they had never truly been in love and what a pity that was for them, in Harley Quinn's opinion.

She knew love and she knew it with every nerve of her body, every thought in her head and every bend of her twisted soul. She felt it with the whole of her beating heart, a heart that felt too full to fit properly beneath her own ribs. Her love for the Joker had no match in all the world and in all the world only she had been allowed to love him. She carried those truths like a book of prayers in her pocket and the strength they provided her helped keep her safe from doubt and put a bounce in her step.

Outsiders would never understand her love and she had given up trying to make them, not long after she'd grown tired of their efforts to infect her with uncertainty and drive her away from her puddin'. How could they understand when their loves were so dull and idle compared to hers; like stones next to diamonds. They just didn't have it in them to truly know love and they thought she was a little lost fool for their lack of imagination.

Harley wasn't a fool. Sometimes life wasn't fair, sometimes life bent the rules, sometimes there were hardships one had to endure. Of course she had accepted that there were days that were up and days that were down.

But any relationship had days like that.

In her time with the Joker, Harley had even discovered that there were days between them that did not exist in any other relationship; days that were euphoric and beyond description with the raw intensity of emotion. Outsiders could only dream of such days in their wildest fantasies and their deepest nightmares.

With the Joker, those were days that were simply upside-down. When the love was so powerful in pitch it threatened to tear her apart as if she were in a state of divine hysteria. If she could have ripped out her heart to give it to him she would have just so long as she could have had his in exchange.

In another life- maybe even in the old life when she had been a dull stone and not yet a diamond- she might have been fearful of the intensity. She might even have worried for herself and what she had become, worried that perhaps her edges had grown too sharp and her heart as cruel as his.

That life didn't matter to Harley Quinn anymore, not since she'd let him crack her open to discover her true self shining inside. Her sharp edges had matched his and that was all that mattered as together they cut Gotham to ribbons and twisted the pieces to his whims.

Sometimes the upside-down days were not so easy to bear, sometimes there were days that her heart ached so desperately for his that she could hardly remember to breathe. His cruel game of indifference to her drove her into a fever of helpless fury. The anger struggled to find a target, aiming at itself, at the world, at her own miserable heart and even in her most low and shameful times, at him.

All the potent energy had no place to go then but to her mouth as she would try to cut into his heart with any words she could find, desperate to make him acknowledge the ache inside her. She'd make him hurt too, if she could get close enough with her sharp edges and then they would laugh at his joke and he would go back to loving her the way she knew he did.  
   
But the words she threw at him never came out the way she wanted them to. Never smart, never funny. An assault with her hands was a half-hearted and final effort, always ending in the same pathetic outcome. Her violence couldn't touch him, he stood calm in the eye of the hurricane.

It was not an argument, how could it be when there was only one side fighting?

The Joker would listen impassively and tolerate her fit of violence until a point was reached where he grew agitated by the display and reacted, quick and vicious. Then he would withdraw in silence, his retreat her only assurance that he'd been aware of her heart after all. The conflict was over as quickly as it had begun and she had been spared. Whether it had been the honesty of her anger that had made him stay a killing blow or the attempt at manipulation that had pleased him, it didn't matter to Harley. All that mattered was that he had already graced her with his forgiveness for her actions by allowing her to live.

Oh but it didn't matter to Harley Quinn that her Joker had left her sitting on the floor with a mouthful of blood that tasted like pennies on her tongue. It was a more welcome taste than the bitterness that had saturated her mouth and she was comforted by the show of emotion the blow had been.

As sweet as a kiss it'd been to her. She'd wrenched something out of him at long last for her efforts. Something far more precious even than forgiveness. She'd made him see the weaknesses of his own heart. No one would ever believe it but she knew it was true and that was all that mattered in the end.

Harley Quinn had made the Joker fear his own heart.

With fierce tears of relief running down her cheeks she would console herself with the knowledge. Bit by bit the pain would be exchanged for pleasure and warmth in the knowledge that his fear was evidence that he loved her, oh her Joker truly loved her. He loved her in his dire way with his fear and with his cruelty and with his restraint, the only ways he could. He'd have killed anyone else for daring to bring it out of him and yet she was here with him- a queen of diamonds laid beside the wild joker. When she thought of it, her heart revived and it grew stronger than it had ever been before. Every tear and every drop of blood was shed only to strengthen her love for him.

When the Joker inevitably came prowling back to her- his little monster, his sweet harlequin- he brought diamonds on chains for her neck and favored kisses on her skin as a balm for the bruises. In those moments she would always discover little lost slivers of herself to give over to him, ones she'd hardly been aware she'd been keeping from him. He took them all and kept her safe from her own destruction, placating her tormented heart at last with his acknowledgement. She called him her puddin' and he allowed it. She cried and he wiped her tears away with his thumb and licked it clean.

It was never a full defeat and never a true victory. They had hurt one another and feared one another and in doing so, had loved one another. Oh, she knew it was true; it was love and that was all that mattered. A love as strong as the diamonds around her neck and as eternal as the diamonds marked forever and ever in ink on her skin. Outsiders just couldn't understand and they never would. They didn't see that love wasn't a choice and it wasn't about what was right or what was wrong.

Love wasn't easy, love wasn't simple, love wasn't fair. Love was a gun pressed up against his head as he dared her to pull the trigger, even as both of them knew that the only real threat was to her own. Love was a kiss between two hands and a kiss back handed in return. Love was an aching heart and a fearing heart all seized up together into a single beating heart.

Oh, Harley Quinn understood what love was.

Love was madness.

 

 


	2. marks and charms / dark drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I hope we get to hear the story behind all the crazy tattoos Harley has got going in the Suicide Squad movie, but in the meantime, my bad ideas ran away with me as they often do.
> 
> As should go without saying from this point on, there's violence and injury here that's typical of the Joker and Harley.

* * *

 

Tattoos and bruises had not really been happy events in Harleen Quinzel's life. Harleen, for the most part, had struggled to enjoy life or appreciate a good joke. The dolphin tattoo had only been the result of a poor choice during her freshman year and it'd made Harleen's love life painfully awkward for her. Harleen had been the kind of person to be bothered by that sort of thing and had actually been putting aside money for a removal, the silly goose. 

Then there was the subject of bruises; boring Harleen had gone to great lengths with sweaters and long sleeves to hide anything that might have looked interesting. Bruises had worried Harleen just like bruises worried every other unimaginative person in Gotham who had delicate sensibilities. 

Harley Quinn herself had looked back at it all and had decided that all things considered, being Harleen had been a real drag. Every day Harley grew more thankful for the Joker showing her the way out of that prison. It was hard to remember herself ever being that silly but puddin' reminded her from time to time. Harley thought the dolphin tattoo was delightful and a good joke, good enough that it'd even made her puddin' laugh hysterically the first time he'd seen it. Harleen hadn't taken that reaction so well back then, but in retrospect, Harley agreed she'd been too stiff.

As for the bruises, Harley was most fond of them for the colors that came and went on the landscape of her pale skin, as pretty as lipstick kisses they were to her and better that they never smudged. Particularly she cherished the ones she exchanged with her Joker, the ones that were born of taunts and through an endless variety of games and delights. Why should she keep such pleasures for herself when she could make him smile with shiny teeth at her nerve as she marked him back? 

It was a little joke they shared together. After all the times strangers had awkwardly stared at the mundane bruises her gymnastics had caused her in her youth and fretted for her, now that no dared to ask there really was a plethora of depraved stories to blame. A pity, though in truth Harley didn't feel much like sharing her joy with Gotham's pigs and sheep and cattle, anyway. The barnyard animals would imagine terrible things and wring their little hooves together as they put her name in the tabloids as fast as they could. A circus spread of fake concern masking an attempt to turn a profit off of her fame. 

She'd been like them once, but she'd learned her lesson. Harleen had got it together and been a dutiful student in the end. Now Harley was better- more than better. Now she was marked as royalty and she was above and beyond such petty little notions. The world could suspect and gossip all it liked but it'd never know for sure, some secrets she'd never tell. The bruises on her hips, the marks inside her thighs and the scratches down his back were theirs and theirs alone, let Gotham just try and guess. 

The problem with bruises and bites and scrapes however, was that they faded away in time. Harley had discovered it in deep disappointment but her puddin' had posed a solution to the problem, as quick and clever as he was. He'd seen her coveting the symbols he had on his skin and knew the divine inspiration she'd been fostering. When he told her his plan and gave her his approval, she was deliriously happy enough to steal herself a kiss.

Ink was the solution, a simple solution that would mark her for ever ever like the diamonds he so often gifted her. The answer had been staring her in the face the whole time. Harleen's sorry little mistake had really been just the first step to appreciating the landscape of her own body. It was funny how life worked out. 

With childish glee Harley allowed her wild thoughts to lead her as she picked where and what permanent marks would be drawn into her skin. Some of them were her own designs, others were his. Doodles on her thighs were her own fancies; protective love charms to keep her safe so nobody would doubt her devotion to her puddin'. He laughed when she showed them to him and it warmed her heart.

It wasn't long after that she convinced him to sit for her and he indulged her to her wild delight. The mark she made was hardly a real impression to be noticed but even just a single needle prick of ink on his skin from her hand would have brought her endless joy. 

All set up like they were playing doctor and patient again he was amused enough by her little game that he let her climb onto him when she was done and lick the wound for the taste. When he grew bored of playing, he took the needle for himself and dabbled on her cheek until she thought she'd died and gone to heaven. He'd told her she was rotten and he'd put it where all the world could see so it'd never be forgotten.

She was his rotten apple dipped in candy syrup, all for him and only for him. The bliss from her heart ran through every vein in her body as she kissed him and he pressed fresh bruises into her with his wicked fingers. Unfolding herself for him as he pulled her where he wanted her, she delighted as he tasted her as thoroughly as he pleased.

When he'd had his fill of her he left her boneless and sated where she was in the chair. For a while she lingered, toying with her fresh wounds until the sweat chilled on her skin and she remembered to apply her bandages. 

Through trial and error she'd learned how to delegate troublesome jobs such as cleaning up messes to the goons who waited on her like a princess. As they worked sullenly and avoided looking at her where she sat, the memory struck her of some old and forgotten fairy tale thing she'd seen as a little girl. She ordered them to whistle and was entertained when they did, hysteric giggles bubbling up inside her as she listened to their attempts to pick a tune and keep it while they worked and cleaned. 

It wasn't until a week later when a tabloid caught Harley's eye that her mood had been spoiled. A spread had made a mockery of her art and her devotion to her puddin', nit picking her every little dabble and wrapping it up with a nasty little bow marked 'The Joker's Branded Whore'. She hadn't waited for puddin' to get back- she hadn't even waited for her nail polish to dry. She'd taken the goons out and she'd taken the big guns along with. The marks she'd left on Gotham that night had lifted her spirits but it wasn't until she got back home and found him waiting mirthful and wrathful at her little escapade, that she regained her lost high. 

After all, the bruises he made were her favorites. 

 


	3. saturday morning / typical day in the life, one-shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of two lunatics and their goons, with absurdity, trashy lifestyle choices, and general mayhem. Gotham used to be such a classy place.
> 
> Cameo appearance by [REDACTED] and Bud and Lou. All these lunatics ran away on me here I'm still not sure what the hell happened so you're probably better not asking why, and Harley's being a massive brat here. ~~Oops.~~

* * *

 

“Harley.”

The light turned on near the bedside. She rolled away from it and put her arm over her eyes, her name registering only as a warm sense of assurance that her puddin' was nearby. Spending a morning in bed with her puddin', that was how mornings were meant to be. None of that 'getting up' and 'going to work' none-sense she'd used to put so much stock in.

“Harley.”

She snuggled into the pillow. It was so nice when he said her name, he really knew just how to make her sound like some kind of treasure.

“Harley...”

Slowly the cylinders in her brain began to fire up as one eye cracked open to see fancy silk pants standing next to the bed. There was something nagging at her now in her thoughts, something important, something-

The Joker pulled her right off the bed with a quick jerk on the sheets, cascading her into a tangle of arms, legs and pillows at his feet. Dazed she lurched up and tried to sort herself out, blinking like a pygmy owl at the light.

Then came the glass of water, as if he couldn't resist being extra sure she was awake. Upended on her head she shrieked at the cold and the rest of her snapped awake in a rush of reactions.

“I'm awake,” she exclaimed, wiping the water out of her eyes and attempting to tug the sheet that was wrapped up tight around her leg off. “I'm awake already! Geez!”

Mr. J pulled one of her pigtails in warning, but restrained himself from yanking, which she thought was rather big of him considering the mood he appeared to be in.

“Harley,” he said with no warmth whatsoever, “there's a problem.”

Harley froze and slowly looked up at him, twisting her head around so her hair wouldn't get pulled out by the roots from his grip and tried a tentative smile. He was staring down at her without any readable expression but his eyes were all bright and that was usually a prelude to something fun.

“... Am I that problem?” She asked very sweetly.

Mr. J suddenly smiled at her and let go of her hair. There was no teeth when he smiled, no shiny silver warning. The breath she didn't realize she'd been holding came out in a rush. “No,” he said as he offered her his hand and pulled her up to stand next to him, “but you're going to be part of the solution.”

“Oh goody,” she said, genuinely pleased by the turn of events. Of course he loved to tease her, she was so easy to tease. Cold water ran down her cheek from her hair and she wiped at it with the back of her hand. “But I'm all wet.”

A tiny flash of teeth in his smile, quick as lightning. “Oh but you're always wet around daddy, pumpkin, you shouldn't let that distract you.”

Unable to help herself she giggled; well he wasn't wrong. When she attempted to lean in and indulge that thought he shoved her away and made an impatient wave of his hand. “Not now, Harley.” That was her puddin', setting her up and knocking her down. The heartbreaking tease. But he'd got her full attention and it was clearly what he'd wanted.

“There's business to take care of and we're on a schedule. Be a good girl and daddy might give you a treat later.” He turned her by the shoulders and gave her another shove in the direction of the bathroom. “So go get presentable and pick out your toys. There's an old friend in town.”

“Which old friend?” The look on his face made her clap her hand over her mouth reflexively. “It's a surprise! Of course, puddin'. I'll just go get ready, lickety-split. But it's gonna take me a minute to towel my hair on account of somebody being clumsy and knocking a glass of water on my head.” She skipped away in time to be out of his range for a smack, but if they hadn't been on a schedule she had no doubt he'd have taken the bait. At least she'd tried, nobody could say she didn't.

“You're running through daddy's patience quick today, pumpkin. Try to pace yourself.”

Disappearing into the bathroom as he stalked off, she hummed a snappy tune to herself and got organized. Adrenaline was better than coffee.

Getting up in the morning and going to work in the morning wasn't the drag she'd thought it was. It just depended on who you worked for.

 

* * *

 

It turned out it wasn't actually the morning but more like late evening- Harley couldn't remember the last time she'd seen daylight in Gotham and she was starting to suspect Gotham was caught in an eternal night- when she got out onto the street and found the crew assembled.

“Where's Mr. J?” She asked Nails, who knew better than to look her in the face or the tits when she talked to him.

Nails stared very intently at his gun and made a show of checking the clip. “He went off by himself,” he told her politely.

Harley scowled and re-positioned the strap of her shoulder holster that was digging in uncomfortably. She hadn't been able to find her bat so she'd had to settle with the gun. “Did he say what was going on?”

“No,” said Nails, still playing with the gun.

“Did he say anything about me?”

“No,” repeated Nails.

“Did he say where he was going?”

Nails shifted nervously. “He didn't say anything, boss.” They only got away with calling her boss when the real Boss was out of sight. It'd taken Harley a few weeks to get them into the habit at first but since the Joker knew everything and didn't strictly disapprove, she'd won in the end. She'd gotten real sick of them calling her 'lady' and 'ma'am'.

“He didn't say anything, honest,” Nails repeated helplessly, as if he wanted to get out of the conversation.

Harley pinched Nails' cheek between her fingernails and he made a sound that would have otherwise amused her if not for the turn of news. “Well, why didn't you ask him?”

Nails looked her in the eyes and all the color drained out of his face. Harley had seen that look before on the goons, it was the look when they realized they were caught picking between two lunatics. She snickered and patted him on the cheek gently. “There there, of course you didn't. You're a smart cookie, Nails, I always liked you best.” He looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere, but he gathered his courage and politely muttered 'thank you' anyway.

Harley went over to the edge of the sidewalk and sighed. Absently she twirled a finger around the end of one pigtail and rested one foot back on the toe of her boot. Playing idle circles with both she listened to the night-scape of Gotham with the practiced ear of someone who'd spent nearly a year living in the high life of the criminal underworld. There were certain sounds you started to recognize in the steel and concrete jungle of Gotham.

Explosions in the small and large range, various types of gunfire, particularly heart-felt screams, thundering roars accompanying incredibly ridiculous and overcompensating Bat-tanks. Boy that last one was really noisy on the eardrums, but generally it meant good fun for everyone involved.

Harley didn't hear anything out of the ordinary and was disappointed. Behind her the goons were milling around with their kits, just waiting for something to do. Obviously her puddin' had a plan, but when and where that was going to be was anyone's guess.

Fishing into her jacket pocket she plucked out her phone and swiped it awake. No missed messages. No texts. She admired her background and smiled to herself as she waited, remembering how she'd taken that snapshot and the fit he'd pitched when he'd discovered it. Too bad for him she made backups.

“Boss?”

Harley ignored them and opened up one of her games to further occupy herself. A yawn surprised her and her jaw cracked unpleasantly. She was starting to wish she'd grabbed a coffee after all.

“Boss, what should we do?”

Bouncing the little pixel robin along with her thumbs, Harley shrugged her shoulders. “Go get me a coffee?”

There was some muttering between them, apparently they couldn't decide if she was serious or not. She let them wonder and kept up the bouncing. Then Nails spoke up.

“The usual?”

“If it ain't a big inconvenience to ya,” she chirped as she scowled at her low score. The sounds of shuffling behind her and someone going off at a jog. Luckily for them there was a coffee place nearby that had learned the routine. She was one of their best customers, though nobody else in Gotham would have believed it.

A few more minutes went by, with Harley restlessly bouncing from one foot to another. She'd put her phone away and tucked her hands into her pockets. Gotham was getting colder as winter approached and if she'd known he was going to have her stand around waiting like an idiot she'd have just gone back to bed and tried her luck with his temper.

Then her ear perked up as she heard a familiar drone coming along down the street. Yanking her hands out of her pockets she placed them on her hips instead and whistled to alert the goons whose ears weren't as quick to pick up the sound of Mr. J's car as hers were.

Staying in her spot she didn't turn her head to watch him come down the street, waiting instead till he'd come to a screeching stop beside her (a narrow miss, not that she'd been worried) to acknowledge him.

“It's cold out here,” she whined. He was cozy in the car and looking at her like he regretted not swerving to hit her. Pouting she leaned down to brace her hands on the open window.

“What did I say earlier, Harley?” He didn't even look at the view. Insulting.

“The boys want to know where we're going,” she announced, stalling for time if they were about to go off somewhere. Nails would be back any minute and she really wanted that coffee. Puddin' never stopped for coffee.

“We're not going anywhere, pumpkin.” Mr. J made it sound like it should have been obvious and she resisted sticking her tongue out at him. It was too cold for playing games, her fingers were going to go numb. “Tell the kids to get ready for the show, like they should have been doing five minutes ago.”

Harley didn't have to turn her head to repeat it, they were sharp listeners when the Boss was around and they were scrambling to set up on the street. Harley frowned. It wasn't like Mr. J to bring home company and she'd assumed they were going out since he had the car.

“I don't get it,” she said aloud in puzzlement.

“Of course you don't. Wait here and don't fidget.” He ran the window up and she had to yank her fingers out so she didn't get them stuck. Harley drew back from the side of the street and watched as he did a sharp turn, burning a streak of rubber into the street. Evidently he was off to put the car away, by the looks of it, what a shame that was.

Was she supposed to know what was going on? Had she missed something? She wracked her brain for clues as Nails trotted up to her and handed her a coffee. 'Harley Quinn' was written on the side in red ink with little diamonds drawn on. Her favorite barista, lucky lucky her! They always got the mix down just right. She accepted it from Nails with a smile that might have cost him his life if the Joker had been around to see it. Nails knew it and the look on his face was just priceless.

“Thanks, kiddo,” she said with a titter and Nails made himself scarce. A real twitchy guy, that Nails. If you fired a gun next to his head he'd jump a foot every time. Most of the goons didn't even flinch.

Sipping the espresso she let the sweetness of the caramel and the sugar and the artificial goodness roll over her tongue in happy waves. Before she could take a second glorious sip, the goons were getting all excited on the other side of the street. They weren't getting ready to shoot but they were puffing up like toy soldiers.

Harley looked down the road and saw a series of fancy cars coming. She had to squint but she recognized the plates right away.

Oh, of course! Now she was getting it.

Rearranging her jacket she took another big gulp of her coffee and almost swallowed it down the wrong way when the Joker came up beside her and put an arm around her waist. He was holding his gun with his other hand down at his side.

“Don't get chatty, Harls.” Mr. J warned her, watching the cars approach. They idled in the middle of the street, the occupants clearly having no intention of getting out or making themselves comfortable. Harley wasn't particularly surprised when she noticed the gun shots denting the main car on the side. They looked new.

The goons were nervous across the street but they'd picked up on the fact they were for show and were behaving themselves. Harley leaned into Mr. J as much as she dared and twirled her finger in her hair for an effect of disarming cuteness.

After a few minutes, the window of the larger car- some kind of fancy limo that was trying hard not to look like a limo but more like some kind of re-purposed tank cross sports car- rolled down and a face appeared. It was a face rarely seen in Gotham, unless you counted the fronts of magazines and newspapers and the occasional poster making fun of him.

“Well you got my attention with the flashy theatrics, very nice, well done, I wouldn't have expected anything less from the Joker. You know I'm absolutely thrilled to come down and visit you here in your garish little slice of Gotham, really I am, but let's just skip the rest of the show you have planned and get to what it is you want.”

Harley sipped her coffee and watched as Lex Luthor animated his way along. She had been expecting a business man, not a college kid hiked up on his own ego. She was the one who drank espresso that was eighty percent liquid sugar and even she didn't get that wired.

“Lex,” said Mr. J with a voice of infinite patience and charm. “I'm so happy you could spare the time. I was afraid we wouldn't get a chance to catch up before you left. I know you're busy these days with your little pet projects.” At the mention of projects, something shifted in Luthor's behavior that Harley couldn't pin point.

“Oh are we actually doing the pleasantries? Fine. Fine,” Lex gestured with his hand but didn't make any attempt to extend it. “Joker. Great to see you again. Love what you've done with yourself. Very cartel. Very retro. Might want to cut down on the ink, just a suggestion.” He gestured to Harley, looking her up and down only once before blinking rapidly like he'd seen something unpleasant. “Oh and of course this must be your lovely 'girlfriend'. Don't you two make the pair. Adorable. I've heard so much about you, Doctor. You're just all over the tabloids.”

“Harley Quinn,” she volunteered, “pleased to meetcha'.” She had to repress a scowl but couldn't stop her tongue. “Nice hair. Might want to use a better glue though, I think it might be slipping.”

Mr. J leaned on her a little as either a warning or as a reward- possibly both- but Lex wasn't listening to her at all.

“Charming, charming.” Lex looked back at the Joker and shrugged impatiently. “So?”

The Joker made a smile that was all teeth. “Oh, I wanted to return something that belongs to you like any good neighbor. It was taking up space and starting to be a real drag.”

Lex stared at him, clearly not in on the joke. “Yes? And what would that be?”

The Joker let go of Harley and turned, gesturing with his gun to two goons Harley hadn't seen come out of the building. They were dressed in full kit, complete with the ridiculous party masks that they wore sometimes on jobs. Between them they dragged what had once been a man but had been since reduced down to a mass of blood and shredded clothing. There were enough scraps left on him to indicate he'd been one of the goons once, before the Joker had decided to retire him. They stopped just short of Mr. J and gave Lex a good view as they waited for orders. Harley spotted her missing bat in one of their hands but resisted making a grab for it, not while puddin' was making his point. Excitement started to grow as she realized where things were heading.

The most powerful man of Metropolis didn't miss a beat and only glanced at the body before looking back at the Joker. “Ah hah. I was wondering if you'd ever find him. Good for you. Took you a little while though, didn't it?”

“Well that's what I get for employing criminals. I'll have to start asking for references,” Mr. J said, still smiling. Harley laughed but Lex didn't.

“Well, you know it's not my usual policy, but since we're such good friends, I think I could find something in exchange for your trouble of returning him to me.” Lex paused for a moment and then cleared his throat. “You know I'd never want to endanger our little business arrangement, but one has to be sure about their investments, don't they?”

“Oh of course, Lexy.” Mr. J holstered his gun amicably. Then put his arm around Harley and steered her over to the ragged heap of flesh. “I just couldn't agree more.” He took the coffee out of Harley's hand and handed her the her baseball bat. The wild thrill that shot through her went straight down and made her positively squirm with delight as she squeaked. Mr. J patted her on the ass and walked back over to where Lex was watching with a look of distaste.

“I also like to be sure,” Mr. J continued, “of my investments. Every last one of them.” He sipped her coffee and subsequently rolled his eyes at the sugar kick, though he didn't let it stop him.

“You see the difference between us, Lexy- besides that one of us still has their real hair- is that none of my investments go wagging their tongues and spilling their bosses' secrets after a little introduction to pain. You may have the money, but you've really got to find yourself some loyal help otherwise you're just not going to keep ahead in the game you're playing. Your toys are just too cheap, they break so easily.” Motioning at the spy with his free hand, he nodded at Harley. “Be a doll and wrap that up for Mr. Luthor would you, pumpkin?”

Mr. J didn't have to tell her twice. Without hesitation she wound up and started swinging. The espresso was setting in nicely and she had quite a buzz started. The man wasn't dead yet and had enough fight left in him to start screaming like a maniac, his battered arms raised up to try and defend his poor eyeless face. Didn't do him any good but make him look silly. It made her laugh at how pathetic an attempt it was and really he was already dead, why the fuss?

The goons beside her let go of him and got out of range as fast as they could, narrowly avoiding getting clipped by her frenzied swings. They shouldn't have worried, she knew exactly where she was swinging. Daddy had taught her how to play baseball real well.

The only sound to be heard was the humming of the car engines, Mr. J's increasingly broken laughter joining with her own and the wet sound of the bat hitting home. Lex didn't even make a murmur for the guy's life.

It didn't take long for her to finish the job. Mr. J had done the lion's share of the damage earlier and Harley had a real good swinging arm. Leaving the broken corpse on the sidewalk she swiped errant strands of hair back out of her face and skipped back to the Joker's side, ducking under his arm and taking back her coffee as she twirled her bat. Mr. J even gave her a kiss on the cheek before looking back at his audience.

“Money can't buy you love,” Mr. J sang as Harley beamed a wicked grin. “Or fear, now that I think about it. Be sure to run straight home and check all your toys for cracks. And remember our little show the next time you think you can play games with my city.”

Lex was staring at them with intense concentration. Splatters of blood dotted the side of his car beside the gun shots. An elegantly cut lady sitting beside him was leaning in and whispering furiously into his ear. He shrugged her off and clapped his hands briefly.

“Wonderful. Spectacular. The killer clowns, stars of the Gotham Circus. You should start charging admission for these shows.” He made an expression of forced amazement and stopped clapping. “Now this has been just great catching up with you, but I have to take off. I've got some prior engagements I can't miss.”

Harley couldn't help herself. “Nice of you to stop by. Be sure to stop by at Arkham, I'm sure you'd be crazy about it,” she chirped. Mr. J's arm was heavy around her neck and it was getting progressively heavier the more she said. She supposed it wasn't as funny as she it had been in her head and shut up.

Lex gave one last look before the window closed completely. “Charming,” he repeated, the disgust in his voice no longer masked.

The cars took off with excessive speed. When they were out of sight, the Joker steered her around back towards the building. He hadn't loosened the grip but he seemed cheerful enough when he spoke to the goons. “Take out the garbage before you make your mother cry.”

When they were back inside in warmer conditions and Harley had stopped rubbing her hands together to get feeling back, Harley couldn't help but think aloud. “He's kinda weird, puddin',” she said while making a 'cuckoo' gesture with her finger. “That was real fun though, threatening one of the richest men in the world to his face and getting away with it. Never thought I'd get to cross that off my bucket list. Though I always kinda figured it'd be Bruce Wayne, somehow.”

“Oh just be patient, Harl, you'll get your chance eventually.” Mr. J laughed to himself under her breath but she didn't get the joke. When she opened her mouth to ask, he flicked her away with a hand. “Now go amuse yourself somewhere else, pumpkin, daddy's got work to do.” He was already on his phone checking messages and sending off his own. Harley sighed. It was typical of him to ignore her once he got his mind going on business and disturbing him while he was busy meant risking an unpleasant turn to the morning. The kind of turn which would have her bedridden for the rest of the weekend and not in the fun kind of way.

Despondent, Harley wandered away from him and started pulling off her jacket. It was just going to have to be another day of sitting on the couch watching cartoons and brushing the babies while he shut himself up in the office.

On the bright side she'd had a pretty great day so far. Meeting Lex Luthor in the flesh and getting to do some damage with her bat, all before breakfast! Nothing could dampen her spirits for long after that adventure. She'd get her slice of puddin' pie later.

Rummaging in the kitchen she tried to decide what to have for actual breakfast. Cooking was definitely out of the question and they were all out of her poptarts again (one day she was going to lay a little trap for the smart-ass who kept eating them all). It didn't take her long to settle on cereal as she was going to watch cartoons anyway, she figured she may as well go for the full experience.

“Babies!” She called as she poured cereal into a bowl. “Where's mommy's beautiful big babies?”

A few heartbeats later Bud and Lou loped in and stopped just short of crashing into her. She gave each of them a firm cuddle of their snouts, hooking her fingers behind their teeth and maneuverings them around firmly but playfully. In response they cuddled up and she indulged them both with pats. Dominance asserted and affection received, they winded around her legs like big cats and started inspecting the counter.

“No poptarts left, babies. I think daddy ate the last of them again.” She poured milk into the bowl and watched the milk turn colour from the sugar coating. Bud and Lou pressed in from either side as she picked up the bowl and pointed towards the rec room door. “Do you wanna watch cartoons with mommy? Do ya? Of course you do, you precious widdle sweeties!”

They almost tripped her as they started to lick the blood splatters off of her boots and her knees. “Oh you fiends,” she tried to scold them sternly through her giggles, “stoppit, that tickles! You're gonna ruin my fishnets!”

Oh it was a good day, it was a marvelous day. She'd give her puddin' a couple of hours to do business and then she'd go in and make her best attempt on getting that treat he'd promised. A few hours of work and he'd be just looking for something to take his frustrations out on. Harley could hardly wait.


	4. a tale of two hyenas / absurdity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absurd silliness to do with the arrival of hyenas. Almost pushed into the range of fluff. I'm not the slightest bit sorry.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harley couldn't help but giggle as fur tickled her face and tiny baby teeth nibbled on her fingers. The armful of hyena cubs squeaked and wooped in response, the happiest she'd seen them yet since liberating them from the cage the hot-shot mobster had kept them in. The guy had apparently had a thing for keeping expensive predators, but they hadn't helped him much from the repercussions of thinking he could bust into Mr. J's territory.

“Who're the cutest little babies?” She asked them, kissing their little dear heads as they licked her chin. “Oh, you are! You are! Cutest little babies in the whole wide world!” They were squirming something wicked but she managed to hold onto the both of them by sheer force of determination. There were very few things in Harley's life she found she couldn't get, as long as she put her mind to it. 

Which brought her to the next problem to hurdle, one a little more tricky.

Mr. J was busy finishing up with the arts and crafts project he was leaving for the stragglers who'd show up later to find what remained of their boss and his business. He looked like he was in a pretty good mood considering the problems that had arisen, but she'd learned better than to trust appearances.

Harley waited patiently, thinking about how she might best approach the problem as he finished dictating a list of tasks to his lieutenant and stripped off his bloody gloves. The instant Mr. J turned to look at her and saw what she was still holding, his whole face changed and she knew she was in for a squabble.

“No,” he said as he walked straight by her. “I told you to get rid of them. You know daddy hates it when you don't listen.”

“But Mr. J!” She sighed, skipping after him with the wooping babies. “They're orphans!”

He stopped suddenly and turned on her. Every inch of him was buzzing with energy and if she hadn't been so focused on the babies, she would have been tempted to take advantage of it. However, she wasn't about to give up on her newly discovered maternal instincts just because of her sex drive and his intimidation tactics.

“Yes, Harl. They are orphans. You murdered their beloved mommy yourself, in fact. Or are you selectively forgetting things again?”

Harley shifted uncomfortably in her spot. Truth be told she felt a little guilty about it, but the babies weren't holding it against her as far as she could tell. It wasn't like she'd killed mommy out of malice, a shot to the head was just business. Animals were delightfully simple in the way of kill or be killed, there were no hard feelings in nature. That being what it was, she wasn't in any hurry to kill innocent babies who didn't have teeth sharp enough to puncture her skin yet.

“Well, she was heading straight for you, puddin'. I wasn't gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

“Something 'bad' is happening to me right now, pumpkin.” He looked down at the cubs to make his meaning dramatically clear. Harley sighed her stray bangs out of her face and made the biggest pout she could manage while choosing to ignore the manipulation attempt. 

“Aw, they're just babies, puddin'! I wanna give them a second chance, after all these little guys never did anything wrong. Besides, they're just so cute.” She shuffled one cub gently down onto the floor beside her feet and got a firmer hold on his brother to hold up to Mr. J's eye level so he could see for himself. As expected, his brother milled at her feet and didn't stray, calling in anxious squeaks.

“Just lookit him,” she begged, as the hyena cub yawned and made a deranged sort of grin at Mr. J. “He'll grow up to be a real maneater.”

Mr. J shot her a poisonous look, one Harley had decided to categorize a while back as 'affectionate', whether he intended it to be or not. 

“Haven't I got one of those already?” Mr. J asked her sweetly as he hooked a finger around one of her necklaces and pulled her in close. She went willingly but kept the cub in her arms, preparing to throw him to safety if puddin' got any smart ideas. Wouldn't be a sure trick, of course, puddin' was lightning when he wanted to be.

“Oh, puddin', you always say the nicest things,” said Harley with a giggle. She pet the squirming cub as Mr. J's arm wrapped around her shoulders and his fingernails dug into her upper arm. The other cub jumped up and placed its paws on her knee, giggling and wooping as its brother joined in growing anxious distress. It was a terrible racket between them but it was just the kind of eerie choir that sent chills down the spine and would upset all sorts of normal people. They were noisy little laughing devils with impressive skills of volume.

When Mr. J restrained himself from kicking the cub away, Harley dared to hope she'd got her foot in the door and her chances of success were on the rise. It didn't matter that he was likely to use them against her later, in that moment she was delightfully relieved. 

“See, they even laugh.” She booped the cub on the nose with her finger and smiled wide and bright at her puddin' as it snapped at her finger. “What's not to love?” When the plea was met by an impassive wall, she cleared her throat and pouted out her bottom lip just a little bit more. “Please can I keep them, daddy? I promise I'll look after them.”

Mr. J looked down at the cubs then back to her. Frost had come into hearing range and was standing back waiting patiently to be noticed. Mr. J let go of her and gave her cheek a warning pinch as he drew away. 

“Try to keep your grabby little hands from picking up anymore pets and we'll discuss this later, cupcake.” Abruptly bored with her and her whimsy, he left her without a second glance and led Frost to one of the back rooms. 

Grinning to herself Harley swooped down to pick up the other cub and bundled them both into the safety of her arms. That he continually allowed himself to be sweet talked into ideas he belittled spoke volumes of her value in his life, in her ex-professional opinion. Not that she was ever going to write that in a book now, but wouldn't the world be surprised if they knew?

“And I know just what to name you two,” she giggled as she stepped over the bodies on her way back out to the cars. “Don't you worry about Mr. J. He's grumpy sometimes but he'll come around, you leave that to mommy.”

Later on the way back home she regaled to him the facts and tidbits surrounding spotted hyenas, reading off of her phone for his benefit. For a while she assumed his silence meant he was droning her out as he often did when she was set on wagging her tongue away. But when at last she got to the juicy part detailing just how quick and neat hyenas could crunch up bones and devour a kill lickety-split, he started to chuckle in that irresistible way of his. She knew she was practically home free.

“See,” she whispered into the ears of the snoozing cubs on her lap. “I told ya. Don't you worry about a thing, lil' babies. You're gonna be completely spoiled with more treats than you can eat and all the love your little hearts could want.” Then she smiled back up at Mr. J and stretched her arms up over her head in happiness. “I'll teach them how to play nice, Mr. J, you'll see. You'll be so proud.”

“I'd better be, pumpkin. You know how much I'd hate to have to cut you up into little pieces and feed you to them if my little man-eaters don't behave themselves from now on.” 

“Oh, we will!” Well the spirit of the law still counted, didn't it? She had made it pretty far without getting herself killed, she wasn't about to start worrying about it just because he thought he needed to do some posturing to regain his control over the situation. Harley giggled as quietly as she could as not to disturb the babies. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, puddin'! You spoil me rotten.”


	5. fever dream / exploration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought on by too many 'what if' thoughts about Harley's transformation via chemical dip in the comics (got to love Gotham logic) ~~and listening to Fiona Apple's cover of Pure Imagination on repeat~~ and an idea on rebirth. 
> 
> Weird and dreamy character exploration. I will get this out of my system eventually, but in the mean time...

* * *

 

Stumbling with bare feet still slick and slippery from the bath, Harley found her own way back to the night that had been left waiting outside. The Joker made no move to stop her, he had gone silent again and only the steady crunch of his shoes on the gravel an indication he was following her. Much like the way a wolf might follow a wounded doe, her fevered mind insisted, but the thought was not important so she pushed it back out. 

Drenched to the bone and shivering from it, Harley wiped at the moisture puddled on her face with ineffective passes of her shaking hands. The thought that she'd lost her glasses somewhere along the way came and went without stopping. So many things just didn't seem important, anymore.

The cold night breeze that greeted her was a sudden shock to her whole body and it brought her to an abrupt stop at last outside the decrepit building. The discomfort of the cold left her as quickly as it arrived, the sight of the city bringing all her wandering thoughts to a crashing halt. 

Displayed in front of her was the most marvelously awe inspiring sight she'd never dared to dream of. The city around them had come alive in her absence, bright lights sparkling in all colors of the rainbow like gemstones lit up like stars in a night sky. 

Had that sight always been hers to see, only she had never noticed? Never truly opened her eyes and looked? Rotating in place she looked all about the city and gaped in awe she had not felt since her earliest memories of childhood. Oh, but what a wonderful world it was, now that it was all so clear. She'd never considered Gotham to be beautiful but she'd been so wrong. She'd been so blind. Gotham was a kingdom made of stars. 

When Harley's vision blurred the lights into beautiful watercolors she stopped wiping at her eyes and let the tears stream freely down her face. The taste was salty at the edges of her open smile and she licked her lips for more even as it burned her throat. 

On she spiraled, until the cold had her shivering uncontrollably and her tears had all dried up. She twisted and danced until she found the brightest star of them all; a star for her very own. Pure and all consuming joy took hold of her as her eyes met those of the man who had changed... everything. The man who had given her the key to unlocking the door in her soul.

She had passed his tests, one by one, she'd passed and she had been rewarded.

Things were said without words in that moment, her heart beating so loud in her chest she knew, she knew she knew she knew he could hear and he understood the fullness of her heart. He offered his hand with a smile that was sharp enough to cut the sky a new crescent moon.

Harley took it without a second thought and so the Joker took her soul at long last. She'd been waiting so long to give it to him. They left the place where she'd been reborn and she felt no need to look back or reconsider the circumstances which had led her there, it just wasn't important anymore. 

Where the Joker was driving them she didn't feel compelled to ask. Wherever he wanted to take her she would go. She'd follow him to the ends of the earth and into hell itself if he wanted her to. 

Euphoric and content she relaxed in the passenger seat and watched as the lights of the city dazzled her eyes with ribbons and sparkles. Every corner taken was another spectacle of chaos in color and mad imagery. The people of the streets occasionally caught her eye as he would rarely slow, their faces blurred by the night and meaningless to her tumbling mind. They were just empty vessels walking empty little lives, hardly worth noticing with a second glance. It was a great relief to finally be sure of it.

On and on they went as the Joker told her stories about the madness of the city and the joke that it was built upon. Though she listened to every word she was still incapable of speaking, her throat burning up with the taste of her own salvation. 

It was all almost too much to bear, really. The sudden adoration for the new world, the city that she had so loathed in her old life and more than anything else above all else, the man so close she could touch him. No longer were there bars or restraints between them, no more masks. Love for him that she had thought was so complicated before she now saw so clearly in simple terms.

“Take a look, 'Doc',” he said as the car came to a pause, “and tell me what you see.”

The wall outside was painted by someone capable but it was far too wistful to be anything more than a childish fool's fever dream. Abstract imagery and ugly swashes of color made up a collection of strange and twisted visages arranged like some grotesque pantheon.

A sullen man who dressed himself as a devil with horns atop his head. A wrathful man rising like weeds from the sea, surrounded by waves of destruction. A bloody son falling down to the earth as if a spreading an infection among mankind. A hooded woman kept hidden by shadows but gaudy with stripes of gold vanity across her chest. 

Though they did not ride on horses, she recognized them all.

“Fools,” Harley whispered with her voice still hoarse with chemical taste. “A bunch of fools playing dress-up.”

It pleased the Joker and he laughed and she too was pleased in response; her heart shuddering in her chest and her toes curling as he surged the car forward. 

Time lost all meaning to her as he drove. Whether it was hours or mere minutes she couldn't know and found that really, she didn't care. He took her where he wanted and he told her things that no one else had ever lived to hear him say. They were in their own little world safe and sound, her love for him swaddling her up and drugging her with happiness. 

Harley didn't realize that they'd stopped until he suddenly got out of the car. She looked after him in confusion until he jerked open her door and stared down at her like she'd lost her mind. The idea made her giggle as she struggled to stand on unsteady feet, not quite daring to reach out and steady herself on him just yet.

Unexpectedly the Joker wrapped an arm around her shoulders and he led her on his own accord, saying things to people she did not know and did not concern herself with as they left the colors and glitter of the outside world to enter a whole new wonderland. In a daze she could barely comprehend what she was seeing as he kept her moving. It was a palace of wonder and noise and fantasy, filled to the brim with images her mind wasn't capable of absorbing after the evening it had already had. There were people playing machines and there were men dealing cards- there were wide smiles and there was endless laughter. 

Harleen had known this place but Harley couldn't place it just yet. It wasn't important, anyway, was it? The people who looked at her- at him- knew their place, she could see it in their wary eyes. Where he walked they parted like fish moving away from a shark. It was a funny sight and it brought helpless giggles to her until he soothed her and herded her away from all the watchful eyes. 

The end of their journey brought them to a quiet place where he sat her down at long last, her aching feet more grateful than her dizzy head. She sat quietly and waited for him to return, he'd assured her he wouldn't be gone long so she kept herself from panicking on faith alone. It was a few minutes before she looked around at her surroundings. The daze that had clouded her head was slowly but surely lifting and in her new clarity, she saw that she was in some sort of master suite as decadent as she would have expected the Joker to own.

A pale creature moved beside her, seated close enough to touch. 

Harley startled and moved to stand but stopped when the pale girl mimicked her movements and looked right at her with bright familiar eyes. Harley sat back down and watched and searched her mind until she began to remember the eyes and remember they were her own. It helped steady her head but the rest of the mirror was confusing to her, as if her eyes had been stolen by a ghost. 

Everything else about the girl in the mirror was new and unfamiliar, as much so as the world outside had been. If it had not been for the eyes she would not have been able to consider the possibility it was herself she saw and even then she had her nagging little doubts. The only true reassurance was the strength in those eyes that peered back at her, daring her to question their newfound home. Bit by little bit it began to sink in to her exhausted head and cement in place. .

So much of her had changed, so many old pieces replaced and gone forever. Her colors had all washed away and left skin as pale as his own and robbed her hair of its former golden glory. Such a pale and beautiful creature, taking after the image of her very love. Childish wonderment came over her as she pinched her cheek to see if color would emerge, but none did.

The colors had all gone away. 

That was really the only distressing part she could find in all of it and it was an easy remedy to bring color back to her life. All she needed was a little dye. Perhaps a little bit of blood. Trinkets and baubles and clothes of any kind she wanted, anything she wanted she could have it. 

Hands from behind her slipped slyly onto her shoulders and she watched them in fascination as they latched a delicate necklace of gold around her pretty pale neck. Gold had returned to her so shortly after losing it, her faith had been rewarded. Shivering she fingered the gold letters of his name as the Joker looked on, a self satisfied look on his face revealed to her by the mirror. The magnitude of all that she'd won began to sink in and left her dizzy with joy.

“Now, isn't that better?” He asked with his lips elusive against her ear. She wasn't quite sure which detail of her transformation he meant, caught up in her own thoughts of love and tests she'd taken and won with stars. The red smile on his face was laughing to a private joke she wasn't yet privy to, though she didn't let it worry her. In time she'd understand, if he wanted her to. In the mean time, there were far more delicious thoughts to be had. 

Mesmerized by the sight of him behind her she found herself centering on the color of his lips; the red reminding her of pomegranates for reasons she couldn't quite remember. Desperate for a taste of him she licked her own pale lips and considered the risks of thieving. No matter what the cost might be, it didn't matter. There was no cost she wouldn't pay for little pieces of him. 

As if he anticipated it, when she turned to him he caught her jaw with his hand and held her cruelly in place as he kissed her with bruising force. It went on until there was barely air left in her lungs and it ended only when he decided it should. She could have kissed him forever, heady with desire and trembling with love, even dying like that would have been preferable to it ending. 

“Yes,” Harley agreed breathlessly. “I'm all better now.” 

 


End file.
